Our Kingdom
by vinkunwildflowerqueen
Summary: In what seems like another life, Fiyero was supposed to be king one day. Now he rules over a different kingdom. It's a far cry from a grand castle, but he wouldn't change a thing. Post-Musical. Fiyeraba fluff. Musicalverse. Oneshot.


**AN. Two weeks ago, Carrie Underwood released her new album, _Cry Pretty._ I'm a little obsessed with it. Track 12 is called "Kingdom" and I just had to write this. **

**A little pure Fiyeraba, post musical fluff for you all to enjoy!**

 **There's also a little _Anne of Green Gables_ quote in here- extra brownie points to those that spot it! **

**Our Kingdom**

 **By Vinkunwildflowerqueen**

Sometimes Fiyero liked to amuse himself by playing the game of 'what if?'

Not in the same sense that he used to play the game, in the years when Elphaba had been on the run; when he'd had no idea of her whereabouts and he could only torture himself with _"what if I'd said something? What if I'd gone with them? What if I'd kissed her in that clearing with the Cub?"_

These days, it was more _'What if I hadn't found her? What if I hadn't left with her? What if I'd lost her?"_

None of these questions had answers he liked to dwell on. Elphaba didn't like to think about the ' _what ifs'._ She tried to keep the door to their past in Oz firmly shut, and Fiyero could understand why.

But all Fiyero's unspoken and unanswered questions came down to the same thing, along with the biggest question of them all-

 _What would my life be like now?_

He was supposed to be king. That was the only part of this alternative life he was sure of.

Maybe- hopefully- he wouldn't be king yet, if things had been different. He liked to think his father would live for a very long time. But one day, he was supposed to be king.

He'd never wanted it, had never thought he'd be any good at it, had never given it a second thought after making the decision to leave Oz beyond the guilt and remorse of leaving his parents behind to think their only child was dead. Yet now, years later, it was just another game to play in absent-minded moments.

 _The Life and Reign of King Fiyero…_ what would _that_ be like?

The shabby old tiny house that seemed to fall apart faster than he could mend it was a far cry from the grand castles he'd grown up in. It didn't have the grandeur of the Wizard's Palace, and it wasn't the mansion on the hill that Elphaba had grown up in. It wasn't the home that he felt she deserved- there were no diamond sunbursts and marble halls here, as they'd often commented.

It was so much better than all of that.

It was far from an unusual occurrence when the thundering of footsteps woke them one morning in late spring, giving them only a few moments' warning before two small weights landed on the mattress, both giggling madly as they climbed over tangled limbs.

Fiyero rolled over with a groan, opening his eyes blearily as he scooped his youngest into his arms, who was closest.

"Good morning, Zadie-girl," he murmured. "Come here, princess."

Eighteenth month old Zadie giggled, gently patting her father's head rather absent-mindedly, her dark eyes watching her big sister cuddle up to their mother.

Four-and-a-half-year-old Izellah was very solemnly telling Elphaba about the dream she'd had while she was sleeping while playing with a lock of her mother's long hair, while Elphaba nodded and listened just as solemnly. It was a morning ritual for them both ever since Izellah had learned to talk- longer if you counted her baby babble, which Elphaba did and Fiyero certainly wasn't going to argue with her.

So far Zadie wasn't one to share her dreams, but her vocabulary wasn't much beyond some sentences.

"Daddy jooz?" she asked him now, poking Fiyero in the eye.

"Yeah, princess. You can have some juice," he agreed immediately, rubbing his eye. "Izzie, do you want some juice?"

Izellah frowned at him, considering the offer carefully. "Apple juice?"

Behind her, Elphaba chuckled quietly and Fiyero grinned. "Apple juice," he confirmed and Izellah beamed and agreed.

"Let's go then," he said, sitting up.

Izellah climbed down from the bed, Zadie scrambling after her and then the girls fled the bedroom as quickly as they'd entered.

Fiyero yawned and rubbed a hand over his face as Elphaba sat up beside him.

"Your daughter is so particular," he grumbled.

Elphaba laughed. "She just knows what she wants," she replied and leaned over to kiss him softly. "Morning."

Fiyero smiled softly. "Morning."

"Daddy! Momma! I can't reach the juice!" Izellah called out from the kitchen.

Elphaba groaned and got out of bed quickly, pulling on her robe before Izellah could cause a mess in the kitchen in her efforts to help.

"When do you think they'll start sleeping past the crack of dawn?" Fiyero asked her, following her from the room.

"Puberty," Elphaba replied dryly.

They got the girls breakfast and washed and dressed for the day, then Elphaba took them outside to help- or hinder- her water the garden before it got too warm while Fiyero made coffee.

When Fiyero carefully carried the coffee outside, he found Elphaba sitting on the front steps watching their daughters play on the tyre swing Fiyero had hung up the week before in the branches of the large oak tree that grew in a corner of the garden. Izellah loved it, and Zadie loved whatever Izellah loved.

A floorboard creaked under his foot as he approached her, alerting her to his presence- if she'd missed the sound of his footsteps or the door opening. Fiyero sighed a little as he sat beside her and handed her a mug.

"I'm going to fix that floorboard today," he mumbled.

Elphaba's lips curved into a smile as she took a sip of her coffee. "Uh huh," she said knowingly.

He'd been saying that since they'd first moved into the house, more than eight years ago.

"I am," Fiyero insisted.

Elphaba shook her head, slipping her arm through his and resting her head against his shoulder.

"Don't. I'm used to the creak now. At this point, _not_ having a creaky porch would just annoy me."

Fiyero chuckled. "Alright, then."

"Now the back door getting stuck on the hinges again, _that_ you can fix," she said, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Fiyero groaned. "Didn't I _just_ fix that? Remind me. _Why_ did we choose a house that's falling apart?"

"It was cheap," Elphaba grinned. "Although, I think your argument was that it gave the place 'character', wasn't it?"

"Probably," Fiyero admitted. He drank another mouthful of coffee and turning his gaze to the girls.

Izellah was gently pushing Zadie in the tyre swing, every inch the doting big sister. It never failed to warm Elphaba's heart to see her daughters play together, to see them have the relationship she and Nessarose had never had, separated by their father, misplaced guilt and Elphaba's forced role as parent and caretaker as well as sister.

Izellah only ever had to be a sister and playmate, and it thrillified Elphaba to her very toes.

"You realise what today is?" Fiyero asked her quietly, drawing her attention back to him.

Elphaba sighed a little, a hint of a shadow falling over her eyes. "Yeah."

Today had been nine years since Elphaba had "melted" and they had begun to make their way out of Oz. Nine years since they had left everything behind. And nine years since they'd gained even more.

"Daddy, come push us!" Izellah called out, seeing him sitting there.

Fiyero pressed a kiss to Elphaba's temple and put down his coffee cup, bounding over immediately to play with his daughters, their giggles music to his ears. The girls were the best thing to come out of the past nine years, there was no doubt about that.

Zadie got bored of the swing rather quickly, squirming to get down and running back to Elphaba, but Izellah insisted on being spun around again and again, her laughter increasing the dizzier she got.

"Again, Daddy! Spin me again!"

"Wait a sec," Fiyero said gently, stilling the swing. "You'll throw up if I spin you again."

He'd learned _that_ lesson the hard way. Izellah sighed, but didn't argue as she scrambled up to stand on the tyre.

"Daddy, what's that?" she asked eventually, pointing to something.

Fiyero looked over his shoulder. "What's what, princess?"

" _That,"_ Izellah insisted, pointing again. "The numbers."

"Letters," Fiyero corrected her gently. "They're words, Izzie. Can you read them?"

Izellah stood up on the swing to get a better look, frowning intently. "'Fae and Yero.' What does it mean?"

"It's Momma and Daddy. It's our names."

Her frown deepened. She knew her own full name (Izellah Galinda Tiggular), and Zadie's (Zadie Kasmira Tiggular), but still found it hard to comprehend that her parents had other names besides _Momma_ and _Daddy._

She still insisted that Elphaba's full name was "Momma Tiggular." Fiyero and Elphaba found this both adorable and amusing.

But that wasn't the question Izellah asked Fiyero next.

"Where's my name? And Zadie's?"

Fiyero looked at the names again, words he'd carved into the wood the day he and Elphaba had bought the house. The day it became their home.

"You know, that is an excellent point, Miss Izzie. Come here."

He swung her up into his arms and walked back over to the porch, where Zadie and Elphaba were giggling over some secret. Fiyero always swore Elphaba could understand even the most incoherent babbles.

"Izzie just asked a _very_ good question, Momma," he announced.

Elphaba looked up at them. "Oh?"

Fiyero nudged Izellah and she repeated, "Where's my name on the tree?"

Elphaba's eyebrow rose slightly. "Well, it's not there, honey."

"Why not?" Izellah insisted.

"You weren't born yet," Elphaba explained.

Izellah frowned.

"Maybe it should be," Fiyero suggested.

Elphaba met his gaze and they shared a secret smile.

"I think that's a good idea," she agreed.

So, Fiyero went to the tool shed and carefully, slowly added Izellah and Zadie's names to the tree under Izellah's strict supervision. When he was done, Izellah had to trace each letter with a little finger, slowly spelling out each letter in each name.

"What do you think, princess? Does it look good?" Fiyero asked her as she perched on his hip.

Izellah nodded. "It looks good," she reassured him, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her cheek to his.

Fiyero squeezed her gently and set her down on the grass.

"I should do some laundry," Elphaba mused.

"I'll do that, Fae," Fiyero offered. "You play with the girls."

Elphaba certainly wasn't going to reject that offer. When Fiyero returned after hanging out the washing, he returned to the front garden to find all his girls lying on a blanket on the grass beneath the oak tree as Elphaba read them a book.

It was Izellah's favourite, one that had been read so many times she was reciting the book along with Elphaba in a whisper. Zadie was nestled contentedly against Elphaba's side, listening with wide eyes.

Fiyero approached them as the story neared its end, and he settled himself onto the edge of the blanket, a soft smile spreading across his face. It seemed to him that he only had to look at Elphaba, and in a moment he was back in that clearing with the Lion Cub, falling in love with her all over again.

As she finished the book, Elphaba got a glimpse of his face and raised a quizzical brow.

"The End," she announced, closing the book.

"Read it again, Momma!" Izellah begged her.

"Why don't you read it to Zadie," Elphaba suggested, handing her the book.

Izellah nodded eagerly and shuffled closer to her sister as she opened the book to the first page.

"What's with you?" Elphaba asked Fiyero in a low voice as she sat up and moved closer to him.

Fiyero shook his head. "Nothing. I just love you."

Elphaba's face softened and she leaned over to kiss him. "I love you too."

That night while Elphaba washed the dinner dishes, Fiyero checked in on the girls- both sleeping soundly, before he retreated to the front porch with a beer, sighing deeply.

Nine years.

They hadn't all been easy. They'd struggled to reconcile Fiyero's seemingly endless optimism with her… lack thereof (what was deemed realism if you asked Elphaba, and pessimism if you asked Fiyero); and they both had their own guilt to bear. It taken more than some adjustment to figure out how to make their relationship work. They both knew from the moment he met her at the trapdoor in Kiamo Ko, there was no going back now. They were in this together, forever.

It had taken more than three years before Elphaba let herself relax and begin to trust that they were safe now; that they weren't about to be discovered by someone from Oz. Even after she'd managed to find a way to transform him back from his Scarecrow form, finances had been tight for a long time.

But they'd made it.

As he sat there, once again, the question rose to the forefront of his mind- _What if?_

The door opened and closed behind him and Elphaba's soft footsteps approached him. She missed the creaky floorboard.

"What are you thinking about?" Elphaba asked, sitting beside him with a glass of wine.

Fiyero didn't answer for a moment. This was one of the few times of the year when Elphaba was willing to keep the door to Oz ever so slightly ajar, but he knew mentioning the endless possibilities of how things might have been different under even the slightest changed circumstances was something that still hurt her.

She'd once said that it was something she'd learned very early on during her time on the run- don't look back, don't question, don't think about what could have been. Not when it was so much more important to think about keeping herself alive, keeping herself free.

"I'm thinking," he said finally, wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her closer to him. "That I wouldn't change anything about the last nine years."

Elphaba rested her hand on his knee lightly. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," he replied firmly.

The years before that were a different story. They both knew that.

"I guess we've done ok, haven't we?" Elphaba mused, thinking of the two precious little girls sleeping soundly inside the house.

Fiyero looked at her pointedly and she chuckled.

"Ok, we've done more than ok," she amended.

She gazed up at the stars silently, drinking her wine while Fiyero absent-mindedly tore the label from his beer bottle.

"Do you ever think about where you'd be?" he asked impulsively. "If things had gone differently?"

Elphaba's gaze came down from the sky to his face sharply. She studied his face for a long moment.

"No," she said softly. "Because the only way things could be better than what I have now, with you and the girls, is if every part of my life had gone differently."

She took another drink of wine and then set the glass aside. "Sometimes though," she added slowly. "I think about-"

"Glinda?" Fiyero interrupted knowingly.

Elphaba smiled faintly. "Of course. But that's not what I was going to say."

She pushed her hair back. "Sometimes I think about where _you'd_ be. What I took you away from. What you left behind."

Fiyero frowned. "Fae-"

"I know that you never wanted to be king," Elphaba cut him off. "But I think that you'd be a great one. I _know_ that you would have been a great king, and I wish… I wish you'd had the chance to prove that."

Fiyero's face softened as he dipped his head to kiss her. "The only chance I'd have of being a great king is if you were by my side as my queen," he told her. "This is the only kingdom I have any interest in reigning over."

Elphaba's eyes lit up as her lips curved into a smile. "A kingdom with a creaky porch, a back door that sticks and terrible plumbing?" she asked.

"Especially the terrible plumbing," Fiyero nodded in mock solemnity. "That was top of my to-do list, you know? For when I took the throne. Ban Mondays, ruin the plumbing, then maybe do something about the economy."

Elphaba laughed. Fiyero smiled and kissed her once more, unable to stop himself from lingering, taking a moment to treasure that she was really here with him. Nine years later, and he never stopped marvelling over that fact.

"You are, you know," he murmured.

Elphaba frowned. "Are what?"

"My queen."

Elphaba smiled softly and rested her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. "I do love our little kingdom."

"Even without the diamond sunbursts and marble halls?" Fiyero asked her lightly.

She chuckled faintly. "Even then," she agreed.

They sat out on the porch a while longer, talking softly, before Zadie's cries floated out to them from inside.

"Want me to get her?" Fiyero asked.

Elphaba shook her head. "It's ok. I'll go."

She hurried inside, leaving her empty wine glass on the porch. Fiyero grabbed it and his empty beer bottle, getting to his feet with a small groan.

As he headed for the door, the familiar floorboard creaked under his feet and it took him a moment to realise he was smiling at the sound.

A run-down old house with creaky floorboards, a sticky door and terrible plumbing. Add to that the fireplace that smoked in the winter and the kitchen window that never opened more than an inch no matter what he did. The house was almost worthless. It wasn't the kingdom he'd ever expected to rule over.

But it was full of light and love and held the three most precious girls in the world- he wasn't quite sure what he'd done to deserve them. He wouldn't change a single thing. For that reason, it was the most valuable thing Fiyero had ever owned.

He stepped into the house and walked down the hall to the kitchen, passing by the open door to the girls' room. He came to a stop, drinking in the sight of Elphaba gently rocking Zadie, whispering words of comfort to lull her back to sleep.

Yep, he thought, the soft smile still lingering on his face. This was the one kingdom he was happy to reign.

 **The End**


End file.
